We did try to get into Bacchanalia and Nava, however, the timing didn't work out.
However, we had a nice trip that was bursting at the seams with tasty. Mostly fried foods, bacon and pie, but that was pretty much the plan.
Sunday, 3/20 On the way to Memphis, we stopped at
Amishland, a giant indoor market of Amish and Mennonite furniture, jams, quilts, etc and fleamarkety stuff. Unfortunately, it was Sunday so you couldn't buy anything, but the buffet was open. It could literally seat hundreds of people, and all the tables and chairs seemed to be of handcarved Amish stock. Despite being in a warehouse-type building, it was a pretty cute, cleaner Country Buffet-type place with less crowds/screaming children and full menu of supposedly Amish recipes. Notable bites: incredible pot roast, fried chicken. They have about 30 different marshmallow salads. No kidding.
Dinner was at
John Daly's restaurant. It was late and we thought we had to choose between Applebee's and fast food - until we saw this little joint tucked into a strip mall. We both had the Red Fish Mango Salad - greens topped with mango salsa and a medium-sized fillet of grilled red fish (?). Good, but so very spicy. I had gotten so used to Chicago's no smoking policy that I was shocked at the question of where we wanted to sit. There was a stale scent of cigs in the air, but luckily we were the only ones there and didn't have to breathe in actual smoke.
Monday, 3/21We stayed in an exquisite B&B,
Andover Plantation,* with a very sweet and somewhat motherly hostess who cooked us some fantastically naughty breakfasts. I wanted to hug her. Breakfast was brought to our room on a large tray, the kind you use for breakfast in bed. It was left at the door with a knock and a good morning. Sweet. Each tray came with a large pot of coffee, two bathtub-sized mugs, two goblets of OJ, a bit of fresh fruit, and two plates of delicious food that I'm sure not to tell my doctor about. I didn't have my cholesterol and blood sugar tested last Friday for nothing.
Our first meal was, no lie, bacon and apricot-stuffed French toast. It was like a butter-fried croissant filled with jam and ricotta. Messy, gooey, and freakin' awesome. Mr. Pie: "Only in the South!"

After walking around the small downtown, we stopped at an adorable coffee house/diner by the name of
Cockadoos. I ordered the sweet tea, and being the savvy northerner, asked for half-and-half just in case. It was plenty sweet - I can't imagine what a full glass would taste like. Mr. Pie had the catfish po'boy and I had the catfish with cheese grits. Altogether too many grits, but a tasty dish nonetheless.
The evening ended with a stroll down Beale Street for some blues and booze. We had the most unfortunate meal of the trip at
Alfred's, a dive with rooftop dining that boasted, as did literally every other place on Beale, great BBQ. The rooftop was the deciding factor. The ribs were had more burnt spots than anything else and were otherwise unremarkable. The baked beans and slaw were decent. The key lime pie was just decent too, although I liked it better than Mr. Pie did. The chocolate bourbon pecan pie, however, was a sad comestible especially for him, a great lover of pecan pie. It tasted like someone made brownie batter, tossed in a few nuts, and baked it in a crust for about 10 minutes too short, leaving us with a crust full of undercooked chocolatey goo.
Tuesday, 3/22Breakfast, determined to cause our happy but early demise, consisted of a disc of something that was a cross between monkey bread and a cinnamon roll - it was like our hostess made tiny little buttery cinnamon donut holes, fit them together in a square pan, doused it with flat icing and cut it into large rounds with a biscuit cutter. Outstanding. Also there was a square of an onion-and-pepper-studded frittata.

Our last drink of last evening was at
Rum Boogie Café, a little joint with some of the best blues of the evening. I insisted we return for the Gator Gumbo - a nice concoction of kielbasa, chicken, crab, gator, catfish and shrimp. It was good, but I think all the fish overwhelmed the gator goodness. We also didn't need the appetizer sampler (kielbasa, cubed cheese, wings, chicken strips and fried pickles) but...
We decided to have a light, early dinner at
The Silly Goose. We shared hummus and pita wedges (subtle, but tasty) and each had a salad: romaine with dried fruit, nuts and goat cheese for me, Caesar (with olives and tomatoes) for him (also good). The service was unnecessarily slow, kicking off a string of odd service escapades.
We finished the day with some Jager and Yellow Tail (the attendants at the liquor store, after I confirmed that the bottle indeed had a twist-off cap, were convinced by my accent that I was Austrailian

).
Wednesday, 3/23We left Memphis today for Atlanta, and unfortunately there was a huge lack in roadhouses, truck stops, etc that I so craved to patronize. I was very sad and unnerved to see the blue FOOD signs at the side of the road were otherwise totally blank. Apparently the economy had hit these businesses especially hard.
We eventually had to eat and I thought we would be stuck with a bad chain (a vacation rule is to never stop anywhere we've eaten before or at a chain unless the food is/was outstanding, it's an emergency, or all we need is a beverage). We found Logan's Roadhouse, which is very much a chain in the vein of Applebee's crossed with Lone Star Steakhouse, but it was decent and we don't have those very near us.
Yes, that's a roll drowned in so much butter that it left a puddle only 5 minutes after arriving at the table, served with a side of butter. I love the South. Dinner presented a bit of a problem. It was after 9 when we arrived at
The Social Goat Bed & Breakfast and it's in a little tucked-away area behind Grant Park, not a very hopping part of Atlanta, so after getting lost on the way to the Chinese restaurant our hostess suggested, we ended up at
Agave. Despite some snooty service, we had a very tasty meal in a rustic, southwestern setting. Mr. Pie quite enjoyed the Traditional Posole Soup (no photo), and I loved the Roasted Corn & Green Chile Chowder. I also had the tasty Guajillo Mussels; you'd think all three items, being appetizers, are overpriced until you see the portions. Although I was quite sated, all I could think of was SpicyPeanutButterMoussePie SpicyPeanutButterMoussePie SpicyPeanutButterMoussePie. Our waiter said it was small, but it was pretty large, accented with chocolate sauce, spiced peanuts, whipped cream and strawberries. It was one of the best desserts I've eaten in recent years, and no thanks to Mr. Pie, I ate the whole thing myself and nearly had to be carried back to the car, which seems to be a vacation tradition for me.
Thursday, 3/24Every time we drove through town (we were desperate to find a car wash to rinse the heavy yellow pollen veil from the car) we passed this tiny little shack boasting a sign that said
Home Grown at the top,
Cornbred and
Art Gallery down the pole. It had a Coca-Cola sign at the side of the building. Was it an eatery or a gallery? Well, it was both. I love places like that! I can't begin to tell you how cute it was.
Mr. Pie ordered some beast of a sandwich that neither of us can remember the name of, but the very memory of it makes him smile. It was something like a towering bacon burger slathered in melted cheese sauce, the structure of which was demolished with the first bite, but was pretty tasty. It reminded me somewhat of the
Good Morning Burger. I had a much healthier meal (pan-fried trout, black-eyed peas with snap peas, pinto beans, and a corn muffin, all delicious), which I destroyed promptly with a slice of equally yummy banana cream pie.
The Landmark Diner (Luckie and Forsyth Streets), which looks so much cooler and upscale on the website than it does in person, provided our most ridiculous food-related experience that still makes us laugh. It was in the area of Georgia State University. I was exhausted and dragging and was in desperate need of coffee. Should be easy to find in college town, yes? Not here!
First, let me begin by saying that there were neon signs decorating the windows that touted CAPPUCCINO! LATTES! ESPRESSO! that made me think, hey, I like those, let's go here and I will order said latte. Oh, Pie Lady, you silly thing! Secondly, this place was bland. Weird, unflattering, florescent lighting; no atmosphere; the seats were gray and aqua and the tables were formica, but they just hinted at retro. The only items of interest were the two or three bakery cases that showcased giant, overdecorated layer cakes. The baskets of black-and-white cookies, scones, etc. were clearly day-olds or older and quite messy, with frosting smeared off.
Our disinterested waitress led us from the front of the restaurant, past a number of perfectly clean tables, to a booth at the back that definitely needed a swipe with a damp towel. After glancing at the menu (which listed latte and cappuccino), we both requested coffee, and she promptly walked away. Why didn't she ask us what kind or what type of milk, etc? So I ran over to the counter where she was pouring a cup
next to an espresso maker, and said, "I'd like to change my order to a latte." "We don't have lattes." "...Oh....!..." I said, and I returned, dazed, to my table, and related this story to Mr. Pie. Now, I have been told on numerous occasions, mostly by crazy people, that I am quiet, I mumble, I am hard to understand...you know, hooey. Anyway, he decided to inquire himself, and he pointed at the menu to augment his befuddlement. "No, sorry, we don't have." What? Then why advertise it both on the menu and all over the freakin' windows in neon? Then he decided he would like something sweet. "A bowl of rice pudding, please!" (Also on the menu.) "No, we don't have." Honey, toss some instant rice into canned pudding, voilá. But apparently all they serve is prefab cake, so we sat there drinking our serviceable coffee with a side of nothing and asked for the check. After twenty minutes, we went up to the front counter. Our waitress apparently told the counterperson (manager?), who was incredibly snooty, what we ordered, but we didn't see her do that. So we told him ourselves, and he pointed out the total on the register like we were stupid (and please, $3.60-something for plain coffee is ridiculous, I don't care where you're from). When he asked Mr. Pie if everything was okay, his answer was "Yeahh..." with a clear undertone of "meh". This made me laugh so hard I started to cry and had to leave.
Dinner at
R. Thomas' Deluxe Grill was decidedly better although after all the deliciously naughty meals thus far, my Seared Wild Ahi Tuna Salad (rare tuna served over mixed greens, red cabbage, carrots, scallions, daikon, red peppers and snow peas in a lemon agave hempseed dressing with seaweed salad, cultured veggies and wasabi) was too healthy, though refreshingly light. So I finished the meal with Kenny's Mango Pie, a really remarkable creamy treat that reminded me of key lime. Mr. Pie had the Chicken Curry Basil Wrap and a slice of Peanut Butter Chocolate Pie that was really rich and super tasty. He also championed the wrap, which I did not sample.
Friday, 3/25 We drove through Stone Mountain Historic Village, and although we didn't plan on eating lunch here, I had to stop at the little train engine serving BBQ:
Crazy Ron's BBQ has it's own smoker!

The tips were pretty tasty and the slaw decent, but the mac & cheese was horrible. I liked the Wonder bread touch, and the lemonade was wonderfully puckery. It was the perfect day to sit outside and snarf.
Dinner was at
Dante's Down the Hatch, a fondue joint hosting live jazz. This place is too fascinating to describe, but the band sits inside half a ship built into a pool of live fish and turtles, all inside the restaurant. If anyone has been to
The House on the Rock, it reminded me a lot of the Streets of Yesterday and Heritage of the Sea. We were able to lounge in a private booth enclosed by wooden columns. We both ordered the veggie fondue and ended the meal with pecan pie a la mode and cheesecake. Although the food was fine, the ambience and music was the highlight.
Saturday, 3/26Unfortunately, Mr. Pie contracted a cold, so I insisted we stop by
Stone Soup Kitchen before heading to CNN Studios (for the most incredibly boring, time wasting tour of our lives. Wish I had that hour back. When you realize the escalator ride was the most interesting thing, you know you've been had). Stone Soup Kitchen is another adorable place with a heated, enclosed patio dining area. I love little places with mismatched tables, chairs and dishware (handpainted dishware, in this case), and SSK had a curio cabinet for napkins, condiments, etc to boot. We both had the Chicken Curry Soup over Rice and Peach Cobbler; the soup was perfectly spicy for my tastes and the cobbler was the old fashioned kind with biscuits. Clearly the peaches were canned, but hey, it's March, and the cobbler was still yummy in a homey kind of way. That makes 7 pies in 7 days. Not bad.
[

Our last dinner in Atlanta was at
The Oceanaire. We usually end vacations with a fancy meal, and this was an upscale casual sort of place. We were served by a truly pleasant, friendly waiter that was focused on formal presentation. We started with a tuna tartare appetizer - a stack of fried wontons topped with tuna tartare and, I believe, chipotle mayo?, surrounded by cuke slices drizzled with wasabi reduction. I'd return just for that; the fish was so fresh and full-flavored and the sauce was the perfect complement.
I unfortunately ordered the live lobster. For some reason I assumed it was the tail, but no, it was the whole damn thing. Eating things with faces unnerves me, but I dug in anyway. It was fine, but Christ, I will never do that again. First of all, the effort is not worth the reward, since every boiled lobster tastes the same. Bits of this bastard were flying everywhere, and through all that work, it was getting cold quickly. However, once I finished, I was congratulated. Despite 1-1/4 lbs. of crustacean in my belly, I was not sated, so I ordered a side of creamed corn. The waiter was bemused and both he and Mr. Pie (who was stuffed on his medium-rare Scottish Salmon alone) made not-to-subtle comments on how I can really sock it away. This creamed corn was really something; whole kernels of corn rested in a lightly herbed cream sauce. It was not the partially puréed stuff you get in the can, and there was a ton of it. I wish I'd taken a picture of that; it was really something. Yes, I finished the whole thing by myself (save one taste for Mr. Pie) and ordered dessert too. The waiter thought Mr. Pie and I were sharing. Apparently the usual female clientele are daintier than I. Sorry, Charlie! I was disappointed at the lack of pie on the menu, but I ordered Cookies & Cream - a slapdash tower of three heavy, chewy chocolate cookies with marshmallow goo and vanilla ice cream sandwiched between, served with a puddle of caramel sauce and crème anglaise and large dollops of whipped cream and chocolate ganache. Tasty, but kind of what I make myself at home. Mr. Pie had the crème brûlée, which tasted no different than any other but was good anyway.
Sunday, 3/27On the way home, we stopped at
Iron Skillet, a truck stop with serviceable food. We were exhausted and couldn't think of a place open after 11 in our neck of the woods, so we stopped at the Dominick's for our late-night meal. What a joke. This is also posted in the
I Loathe Dominick's thread. This was my egg salad sandwich:
Apparently there's someone at the factory that sneezes egg.*I can't stop singing the praises of this place. Please consider a stop at this B&B if you're near Memphis.
Last edited by
Pie Lady on January 19th, 2012, 3:39 pm, edited 3 times in total.